Gabriel had never known a creature quite like her before. The young woman, Joan, was…kind of different. She was fiery, and had a sharp mind, but was also kind-hearted and taken to gentleness. It did seem a bit like a paradox, to him, that all of those things could be contained all in one person.

The small maid turned in her sleep, sighing quietly. Gabriel knew it was probably creepy of him to be standing in her doorway as she slept, just watching, but he couldn't help himself. He was devilishly curious, and she was irritatingly interesting.

Most people simply annoyed him, but Joan didn’t seem to. At least, not as much as everyone else did. He got frustrated that she didn’t seem to see things properly, as he did, but that was only normal. Perhaps he didn’t mind her as much because she could use magic as well, and that contributed to a sort of unspoken understanding.

But would that be true with any human magician other than Joan, and himself? Something deep inside of him said that Joan was a gem, regardless of if she was a mage or not. The way she had grown so quickly comfortable with him, that very first day she’d been in his employment, how her eyes flashed when she was angry, and the fact that she hadn’t hesitated to give him a piece of her mind made him certain of it.

Besides, Gabriel’s people didn’t typically get along very well with any humans, even the mages among them. He smiled a little, wondering what reaction that his resident doctor would have if she could see through his disguise. Laughing quietly to himself, he closed her door silently, then made his way down to the kitchen.

“Gabriel, dear boy, you aren’t working?” Mrs. Hudson wanted to know as she made dinner.

Gabriel amended his thoughts about not getting along with most humans, Mrs. Hudson was another exception, as they got along quite well, and he didn’t want to imagine life without his trusted housekeeper.

“I just finished my case. I’ve already told Myles and L’Strade all of my information, and several arrests are going to be made.” he paused, thinking of his small companion who was slumbering peacefully. “Oh, and Joan is having a bit of an early night, so I suspect that she won’t be down for dinner.”

“Oh, is she not feeling well?” Mrs. Hudson asked, immediately worried.

“As to that, I cannot say, but perhaps she is just tired from all of today’s activities…and I may have upset her with some…” Gabriel stopped, trying to gather his thoughts, “slightly rash words on my part.”

“Oh, what am I to do with you? You really ought to learn how to properly treat your friends.”

“She’s not my friend. She’s the resident doctor and maid.” He retorted.

“Gabriel Locke, if I hear you say that again, I’ll be resigning on the spot!” she said severely, shaking a wooden spoon at him threateningly.

“Dear Mrs. Hudson, don’t do that! The words will never pass my lips again.” He promised apologetically, as a strangely frantic feeling had risen in him at the thought of Mrs. Hudson leaving her job. The housekeeper was a fixture in his life.

“But that’s exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about! Upsetting poor Joan, indeed! She’s put up with your shenanigans so very well, which is far more than most people do. Now, you must apologize to her as soon as possible.”

“Contrary to popular belief, the thought had already crossed my mind.” Gabriel said mildly, sitting down at the table and leaning back in the chair. “In fact, I went down to apologize, and that’s how I found that she was asleep already.”

Mrs. Hudson smiled a little, “Then you’re already doing far better than when you first hired me.”

“I should hope. I’ve known you for what, thirty years now?”

“And you haven’t aged a day, it’s all that magic in you!” Mrs. Hudson laughed. “My husband was still alive when I first started working for you.”

“Oh, is that who that fellow was?” Gabriel feigned ignorance, and smiled when he was rewarded with a laugh from his beloved housekeeper.

“You can be funny, sometimes, dear boy!”

“I do try. Even my limited sense of humor can make jokes, from time to time.” He sighed, picking absentmindedly at his fingers, “But you were right, the magic keeps me from aging.”

“Like the elves, I should think.”

“Indeed. Joan hasn’t quite stopped aging yet though.” he said thoughtfully.

“Yes, yes.” Mrs. Hudson said absentmindedly, a dreamy expression on her face. “I’ve heard wonderful tales about the fair folk…”

“Elves are just a myth, Mrs. Hudson, you know that.” Gabriel said, perhaps too quickly.

“Oh don’t say that, I can dream, can’t I?” she laughed.

“I suppose.” the detective sighed.

--

Sir Locke was in the kitchen when I went down to help Mrs. Hudson with breakfast. Ignoring him, as I hadn’t forgotten his rudeness the day before, I immediately started to help the housekeeper prepare the food.

“Watson.” He said, while my back was to him.

“Sir.” I replied, a little coldly.

“Did you see the paper this morning? My brother made sure that L’Strade was able to arrest all the responsible parties, which included some rather high-ranking military men.” he told me.

“Good.” was my terse reply, though I was glad to hear that justice had been done, as I peeled apples to be fried.

“Can we talk?” he asked after a moment.

“I am certainly capable of talking, and it would seem that you are too, so yes, it does appear that the both of us can, indeed, talk.” I snapped, my back still turned.

Mrs. Hudson stifled a chuckle.

“You know what I meant.” I could hear the scowl on his face, but there was perhaps a hint of amusement there as well. “Come to the parlor while Mrs. Hudson finishes breakfast.” When I didn’t move to immediately follow him, as he walked to the door, I heard him pause, “Please?”

What little self-restraint I had snapped, and I whirled about, hands planted firmly on my hips, facing him, feeling my face burning with anger. “If you mean to apologize to me for your words last night, then you can do it here, in front of Mrs. Hudson, she’s a woman too, after all.”

Sir Locke’s eyebrows rose slightly, and I immediately knew that my anger had surprised him. He was quiet for a few moments, before speaking again. “I am sorry for my comment. It was callous and…” he seemed to be thinking for a word.

“Sexist?” I offered, now crossing my arms, shifting my weight to one foot, and raising my eyebrows at him.

“I was going to go with unkind…but yes, that’s a perfectly good word too…have any others?”

I blinked, a little surprised. “Rude, pigheaded, typical, insensitive, obtuse, offensive, discourteous, impolite, disrespectful, and ignorant.”

“Any others?” he wanted to know.

I thought a moment longer, “That’s all I’ve gotten for now, but if I start spouting other words for how rude you were later, that’s all I’m doing, continuing my list.”

“Now, will you still come to the parlor?” he asked, politely, his hands clasped behind his back, now the very picture of courtesy.

“Why would I need to?” I asked, confused, “You’ve already apologized…”

“Actually, a client contacted me early in the morning about another potential case.”

“So soon, sir?” I asked, confused.

“Crime doesn’t sleep.” He said somewhat wearily.

“But why do we have to go to the parlor?” I was still confused.

“To wait for the client, Watson.” he said in a long-suffering tone.

“Oh, alright, then.” I sighed.

“Breakfast in the parlor while we wait, would be lovely, Mrs. Hudson.” The detective said before leaving.

“Alright, dear!” she said cheerfully as the door swung shut behind us.

We went into the parlor. “Please sit.” He motioned at the couch, so I sat. He started to turn away, but then quickly faced me once more. “Are you comfortable?” he seemed a little uncomfortable.

“I’m fine.” I frowned, “Perfectly fine, sir.”

“Good.” He said, and then sat down in the seat across the coffee table from me. “Out of all the descriptive words you had, I must say that I take issue with only one.”

“Which one was that?” I asked.

“Typical. I’m not exactly typical in any way.”

“I disagree. From my perspective, men have always belittled me, and other women, wanting us to feel less than them, or as if something is wrong with us, just because we’re women, as if we couldn’t possibly be as good as they are at anything, if not better, simply because we’re not men, which means that we are not to be taken seriously in any matter.”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

The man was quiet for a few moments, a slight frown on his typically inexpressive face. “I see.” The detective shifted in his seat, which didn’t seem very comfortable. I had to agree, since the seat I was occupying wasn’t particularly comfortable at all, either.

“Wouldn’t you rather do this in your study?” I asked, knowing that the seats in the study were far more comfortable.

“Yes.” He said, blinking.

“Then why on earth are we in here?” I asked, laughing a little.

Gabriel Locke was quiet for a moment, then stood, and headed for the door. “You’re absolutely right, this room is completely and utterly absurd.” He opened the door, and held it for me.

“Thank you.” I popped my head into the kitchen, “We’re going up to the study, instead, I think, Mrs. Hudson. I’ll come down and get breakfast in a little while, so you don’t have to do the stairs.”

“Oh, I’ve just finished it, love, take it with you now.” She handed me a tray filled with breakfast for two.

“Alrighty!” I took the tray, but my employer promptly took it from me. “I can carry it…”

“It’s a little heavy for you, I think.” He said sternly, and then added, in a slightly softer tone, “And not just because you’re a girl.”

“I would say that I could just levitate it, but have decided not to argue with you, just this once.” After all, he was right that I wasn’t very strong.

“You have my deepest thanks.” His tone was sarcastic, and made me smile a little.

We ascended the stairs, I trailed after him. “So who is it that’s calling?”

“I received a note from a rather distressed young woman by the name of Ms. Jessica Dodd.”

We entered the study, and he set the tray on the table.

My eyes flitted to the skull on the mantelpiece. “You must get rid of that skull, sir. It’s a sore sight. I’m surprised it hasn’t frightened away any potential clients.” I frowned.

“Does it bother you?”

“I’m a doctor, of course it doesn’t bother me.” I rolled my eyes.

“Then I shan’t move it.”

“Why not?”

“What if you’re not around for me to bounce cases off of?”

“I take it to mean that I’m filling in for the skull?”

“Take it as you will…but you’re doing admirably, if you must know.”

“I'm flattered, sir.” I rolled my eyes again.

“You don’t have to call me sir.” He said, a slight crease wrinkling his forehead.

“What else would I call you?”

“My given name is Gabriel.” was his quiet reply.

“I am aware of that. But you’re my employer, and it’s hardly proper for us to call one another our given names.”

“Of course.” The detective nodded, “My apologies. But isn’t it permitted for friends to be on a first name basis?”

“Are we friends?”

He was quiet for a moment. “I thought we were.”

I smiled at him, comforted by his reply, and the fact that he seemed a little shaken by my suggestion that we might not actually be friends. “We’re friends, sir.” We had become friends rather quickly, all things considered, but it was a good thing that I actually got along with my new employer, now that I’d forgiven him for his rude remarks.

“Good.” He seemed assured by this.

We were quiet for a few moments.

“What else do you know about this Ms. Dodd?” I asked as we started to eat.

“That she fears that one of her childhood friends has gone missing.”

“Why not inform the police?”

“She cannot prove that he’s missing, I believe. But we shall know soon enough. She’s to call at ten.”

“I see.” It was nine-thirty at that moment.

We continued our breakfast in relative silence.

“Why were you fired from your last job?” Sir Locke asked suddenly.

“What?” I asked, setting down my teacup, surprised at the question.

“I…I am trying to make small talk. Forgive me, I’m inexperienced and not well-versed in it.”

“The measure of a person is not found in their ability to make small-talk, sir.” I laughed a little.

“I would certainly hope not, I would not be much of a person if it were.”

“I feel like I would probably fall into that same category. As to your question, you yourself are the one that said it was probably my own clumsiness that caused it.” I said, confused about why he’d asked, if he already knew.

“But as to specifics, I don’t know, and that annoys me, to be honest.”

“Oh, you want specifics. I dropped a tureen of tomato soup.” I shrugged, “It was a huge mess.”

“I would imagine so.” He blinked. “I would not whip a person for such an offense, though it’s…not really an offense.”

“Of course, it wasn’t my first accident. So it may have been an offense by the time it happened. I’d broken a couple of teacups, dented a candlestick, knocked a lantern down and nearly caught the kitchen on fire, among other things. The soup tureen was the final straw, I’m afraid.”

“That’s still not enough cause to whip a person.” His tone was kinder than I’d heard him use before, and I looked up.

“I didn’t think it was either. Fire me, yes, but a whipping? I thought it was uncalled for.”

“Indeed. Is it healed?”

“Mostly. I can do healing magic, and it’s sped up the process, but I find that it’s hard to use healing magic on myself. Really difficult, actually. It still throbs from time to time.” I told him. We both jumped as the doorbell rang.

“I do believe our client is a little early.” He noted the time. “Show her up, will you?”

Hurriedly, I set down my tea and scurried out the door as fast as my limp would allow. Mrs. Hudson had let the lady in, and she was standing, somewhat apprehensive, on our front carpet. “Mrs. Dodd?”

“Yes ma’am!” she nodded, curtseying.

“Oh, don’t curtsey to me, or call me ma’am, I'm just the maid.” I smiled at her, “But if you’ll follow me, Sir Locke will see you immediately.”

“Oh good!” She followed me back up the stairs.

I entered, announcing, “Mrs. Dodd to see you, sir.” I started to leave.

“Please stay, doctor. We may yet need your insight.”

“Oh. Okay.” I shrugged, but was glad to have been included in his business once more.

“Please, have a seat.” He said in an amiable tone to the potential client. The small woman took a seat, and smoothed out the fabric of her green dress. She had lovely brown skin, and deep, rich brown eyes that would have been warm but for a deep sort of worry. Her hair, also a very dark brown, was pinned up in neat, beautiful curls on the back of her head. “Can we offer you some tea? I'm afraid you’ve caught Dr. Watson and I here in the middle of our breakfast. Or perhaps I should offer something stronger? You look a bit shaken.”

“If you have a glass of sherry or brandy, that would be much appreciated.” Mrs. Dodd’s tone was grateful.

“I have both, which would you prefer?”

“Oh, brandy, I suppose.”

“Watson, would you be so kind as to pour the deeply concerned lady here a dash of the brandy? It’s in the drawer, the square tumbler, mind you.” he motioned at a drawer on his desk.

“Of course.” I got up, and opened the drawer he’d motioned at on his desk, and was a little surprised, and amused, to see that it was completely full of various tumblers and bottles of alcohol.

Well then.

“Do you see it?” he asked mildly.

“I do, I’m merely admiring your rather prodigious alcohol collection, sir.”

“Watson!” his tone was somewhat annoyed.

“Not judging, just admiring.” I said, and was rewarded by a quiet laugh from Mrs. Dodd.

Shutting the drawer, I handed our visitor a small glass of brandy, and took my seat, but noted that she didn’t take a drink.

“Thank you.” she murmured.

“Of course.” Sir Locke nodded. “Now, you mentioned a potential missing person?”

“Yes, indeed. My childhood friend, Emsworth Godfrey.”

“Hm, Godfrey is a household name. His father is a decorated veteran, a Colonel, I believe. But you say that you have no proof that he’s missing?” Sir Locke queried.

“Yes. Indeed his entire family assures me that he’s on a voyage around the world.”

Sir Locke tilted his head to the side, “So what brings you to me?”

“We have the most regular correspondence, and we each usually send at least one letter a week to one another. But a little more than two weeks ago, his letters suddenly stopped.”

“Could it have been caused by some mistake with the postal service?”

“Initially that was my thought, so I wrote to him, telling him that I’d not received his usual letter. Instead of hearing back from him, I received a letter from his mother telling me that he’d embarked on a trip across the sea, with intent to make a new home for himself there. I found this particularly odd, as he would have mentioned such a thing to me. We have been best friends for many years now! Why would he not tell me such a thing? Or at least leave an address for me that I might write to him still!”

“Is it much like his character to want to move suddenly across the sea?”

“No. He’d only just got back from a long sea voyage not a week before I missed the first letter. It would be very strange indeed if he simply ran off again like that, without making any mention of it to me!. He likes to plan things out, and is not taken to making hasty decisions, like another sudden trip across the sea, right after he’d only just returned from one.” She said, clearly distressed. The woman finally brought the glass of brandy to her lips.

“I see.” Sir Locke said, a gleam in his eye, clearly interested in all that she’d told him. The detective sat in his chair for a moment, fingers steepled, his indexes resting on the bridge of his nose, with the pair of his thumbs touching beneath his chin, elbows resting on the armrests of his seat.

“Will you look into it, sir? He’s one of my dearest friends! He was even the one who introduced me to my husband!”

“Yes, I will look into your case.” He told her.

“Oh thank you! I am forever indebted to you!”

“Make no mention of it, Now, I require only one more thing on your part, Mrs. Dodd.”

“What is that?”

“Write to the Godfreys, and express desire for you, and two friends, those being the good Dr. Watson here, and myself, to spend a night or two there. Make some excuse that we are traveling, and are passing through the area, and find ourselves in need of a place to stay two days from now. Can you do that?”

“I can.”

“Write to me at once when you receive their reply. If they refuse to house you for a night, for whatever reason, then we will find some other way.”

“Alright.”

“And leave the rest to us, Mrs. Dodd.”

“Thank you so much!” she clasped his hand gratefully.

“Would you see her out, doctor?” he asked me.

“Certainly, sir.” I led the lady back down the stairs, and made sure that she’d gotten on her way.

Seeing a few cobwebs on the rail of the bannister, I grabbed a feather duster, and started battling the flimsy, clingy threads.

“What’s taking you so long, Watson?” Sir Locke’s voice made me jump.

“What? Oh, I’m dusting, sir.”

“I see.” He frowned. “Were you ever intending to come back to the study?”

It was my turn to frown in confusion. “I didn’t realize that I was supposed to…”

“Ah…More miscommunication.” The detective sighed, frowning a little, “Forgive my frustration. I forget that people don’t often think along the same lines that I do. I still wanted to discuss some things with you, would you please grace my study with your presence once more, doctor?”

“You’re forgiven, and yes, I’ll go with you, but only because you phrased it precisely like that.”

“Indeed.” He snorted, seeming amused.

“Now you have to say it like that every time, you know that, right?”

“Don’t worry, I promise that I’ll do my best to forget to do so immediately.” He assured me sarcastically.

I laughed. “Of course.”